Conflicting Testimony
by Sleeper of R'lyeh
Summary: " Just about everyone in the Capital Wasteland has a story about the Lone Wanderer, even though precious few ever really knew him. But that doesn't stop them from telling crazy tall tales about how he saved their lives, or blew up a mountain, or ate a car or something. " - Moira Brown. The weird part ? They're actually all true.
1. A Journey Ends

A Journey Ends

* * *

Jefferson memorial rotunda, the heart of project Purity. Battered, irradiated and almost destroyed, the room is littered alike with the corpses of the twisted minds who would have perverted its purpose and the heroes who fought to preserve it.

Two lone figures stand amidst the desolation.

" Damn it, Tick, stand out of my way ! This place's gonna blow any minute ! "

" Fuck no ! I ain't letting march you march to your death ! Give me the code ! "

" I am NOT going to let you die for me ! "

The woman exhales loudly.

" Fine. Doesn't matter. Shoulda' known you'd be difficult. I know you got it in that Pip Boy of yours. " She cracks her knuckles. " Just stand still, Vault Boy. It'll only hurt for a moment. "

The man's clenches his fists as he lowers his stance. " Dream on. "

In the background, the whine of dying machinery grows louder.

* * *

Side-note : And so it starts. Been meaning to do a piece on Fallout 3 for a loooong time. Compared to Fallout New Vegas and Fallout 4, it really is the superior game, character and story wise. (at least to me. To each their own.) The icing on top ? The player character is a blank slate. Not in the literal lazy writing sense that they suffer from amnesia and have no history - in the sense that the game was designed from the get-go so you could play them anyway you want to.

Want to be nice to people ? You can play as a saint, helping people for no reward, spreading cheers and goodwill around you.

Maybe you're more of a no-nonsense kind of guy. It takes more than a sunny attitude to survive out there, you need to look after yourself.

Then again, maybe going on quests bore you. Instant gratification, amiright ? Who wants to bother with that stupid quest stuff ? Say NO to quest givers.

Hell, kill them and get the reward they were going to give you anyway - plus extras !

Still, there's more to life than money, you know. Sometimes, you just want to hurt people for FUN. Torture people for FUN. KILL PEOPLE FOR FUN. Well, you can. Hell, you can even get away with it !

And you can do all of the above with pretty much, well, any NPC in the game. Top that, Fallout 4.

Fasten your seatbelt, Capital Wasteland. You are not ready.


	2. A Journey Starts

A journey starts

* * *

Six months ago, in front of the entrance to vault 101.

" Well, this day could have arguably gone a lot better. "

Certainly, when I woke up this morning, the last thing I expected was being hit, shot at and chased all the way out the vault.

And yet here I was. Outside.

Nuclear Armageddon hasn't been kind on the outside world. Sprawling in front of me was a vast wasteland, hot and dusty. Car carcasses laid abandoned on a ruined road that, in former times, must have lead to the nearby town of Springvale, now a nameless ruin amidst the devastated landscape. I remembered the skeletons laying in front of the Vault door. I guess the drivers of those cars made one last desperate gambit to get into the vault. Did they accept their fate before the bombs fell ? Or did they clung to the hope of getting inside to the end ?

Would I ever be allowed back inside ?

I repressed a shudder and shook off the depressing thoughts. I couldn't afford to think like that. Not now. I needed... I needed to find dad. Stepping up to a nearby overlook, I scanned my surroundings. He couldn't have gotten far, right ? Using my hand to shield myself from the sun (and trying not to freak out too hard about the lack of ceiling above me), I strained my eyes in the faint hope of spying his white coat, but my efforts were for naught.

An uneasy feeling settled in my guts as I remembered an old safety book they gave to children in the vault. The always cheerful vault-boy claiming " When lost, the easiest way to be found is to stay where you are ! " But that wasn't really an option for me anymore, was it ? My father had left me inside the vault, but now the vault had thrown me out. My only option was to follow him into the wasteland and... hope for the best.

I remembered reading about an old expedition to nearby town named Megaton while I was rifling through the files on the Overseer computer. Yet another thing the overseer conveniently forgot to mention all those years. ' We live in the vault, we die in the vault ', my ass.

Checking my notes, I quickly found and entered its coordinates in my Pip-Boy built-in map. Hmm. A mere 15 min walk from here. Hopefully, I'll find dad there.

Before I went, though, I picked up a rock and wrote a quick message on the cliff side I just exited.

 _Dad, in case you come back here, the vault threw me out. I'm going to Megaton._

 _Love, Junior_

There. All bases covered.

I took a deep breath, opened a little the zipper on my suit to alleviate the stifling heat, and down I went into the ruins of the old world.

* * *

The thing that got to me the most during my short trip to Megaton was the silence. In the vault, you could always hear the noise of machinery, conversations echoing down the corridors, or announcements from the overseer. But here, in the wastelands, the only noise that could be heard was the sandy, bitter wind. When it moaned in a particularly ominous manner, I half fancied I was hearing the pitiful wailing of the ghosts of the old world. The ruins of Springvale certainly didn't help the mood.

And then a flying robot singing the national anthem floated next to me.

Oookay. Points for originality, God, but not exactly what I had in mind when I was complaining about the silence. The robot proved to be a fascinating distraction though. I had never seen a floating bot quite like this one. I mean, it was literally hovering without any obvious mean of propulsion ! Not like Andy back home, which had a giant propeller stuck to the bottom of his chassis. I would have loved to take a look at its insides, but I didn't really had the time, sadly. (Not to mention I wasn't particularly willing to challenge the mean looking laser emitter attached at the bottom of its case).

The machine eventually floated away while spouting some old pre-war propaganda, and it was silence again. I briefly considered following it some more, but that was silly. It was probably programmed to roam the same area continuously anyway.

I was relieved when the giant heap of scrap metal that was Megaton appeared in sight. Man, the pictures on the Overseer terminal didn't do the place justice. This gate is huge ! Upon approaching, I noticed a man sitting on the ground near the entrance. His clothes were in tatters, and he was obviously dirty, hungry and dehydrated.

" Uh... Hi. " And so I met my first wastelander (who, I later learned, is named Micky)

" Hello, stranger. I don't suppose you'd have some water to spare ? I'd drink from the Megaton well but its reserved for the citizen. "

" Sorry, I don't even have any for myself. "

" Oh... Well, thanks anyway... "

Micky ignored me and returned to his sad and pathetic vigil. Yeesh. Talk about a welcoming wagon.

A protectron I had failed to notice earlier had approached us during our conversation.

* Welcome to Megaton. The bomb is perfectly safe. We promise. *

Did that thing just said _bomb_ ?!

I turned around and let a groan. An old MkI. Ugh. Those things were already old BEFORE the bombs fell. I could practically hear the gears turning as its calculator painstakingly calculated its next action.

* Thirsty partner? Try Moriarty's. Coldest drinks in the Capital - *

I raised my hand to stop him.

" What bomb ? "

Micky intervened.

" Oh, that's the bomb by the town center. 'Built the town around it. Thing's been inactive for decades. It's safe. Probably. "

I blinked. Twice. Was I about to enter a town of madmen ? Those people knowingly - willingly - built a town around a possibly live atomic bomb. There was still time to turn away, right ?

.

..

...

Oh, who was I kidding.

I let out a sigh and walked into Megaton proper.

* * *

Well, Megaton is SOMETHING, alright.

Imagine a dirty, irradiated crater surrounded by walls made of scrap metals, and filled with several rickety metal shacks roughly organised on two levels around a bomb resting in the middle of the town.

Really homely.

But hey, home is where the heart is, right ?

Oh yeah, apparently I'm living here now. Got my own house with a robot butler and everything. And a room-mate.

But that's skipping ahead. Because a LOT has happened since I entered Megaton ; enough that I didn't get the time to update my journal before now.

When I came into town yesterday, I was welcomed by one Sheriff Lucas Simm, who was actually looking the part, with the star, duster and a long coat that billows mysteriously in the wind while a random wastelander plays harmonica in the background.

Okay, he looks ridiculous.

Despite his cowboy complex, Lucas made it very much clear that he was the law in Megaton, and that he would not hesitate to put a bullet between my eyes if I even tried to start trouble around here. I... Uh, inquired as politely as I could about the bomb, and he kindly explained why the town was built around it. Apparently the town was built with the extensive help of a band of nutjobs belonging to crazy cult named the Church of Atom, which venerates atomic fire, and see the bomb as the key to their salvation.

Lucas insisted that they're pretty harmless - they just like to bask in radiation. I was kinda worried by the fact the local law was comfortable with living alongside suicidal cultists, but he told me he was still as afraid of the bomb as I was.

So crazy cultists are cool, but atomic bombs are not ?

Oh well. I half-jokingly offered to try and disarm it for him. Can't be that complicated, right ? I mean, those bombs were designed to be dropped from airplanes. You'd have to be seriously paranoid to include an anti-disarming system !

Again, he was... surprisingly cool with the fact that a near complete stranger would hold the lives of the entire town within the palm of their hands.

Lucas seems like a genuinely nice guy, he really does, but by that point I was starting to suspect that the good sheriff of Megaton conducted his job entirely on gut feeling.

Before I bid him goodbye, I asked him about my father. He didn't remember him specifically (not that I had any picture to show him) but he did saw a stranger swing by earlier with a " look in his eyes ", whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. Anyway, according to him, the guy spent some time at the saloon and went on his way.

It wasn't much, but then again, it's all I got.

Thanking him for all the information, I stepped up to the town center, where the bomb is located, to see exactly what I had gotten myself into. In hindsight, it might have been a good idea to do that first, because I soon realized things might not go as easy as I thought. The bomb was sitting in a pool of irradiated water and the access panel was so rusted that I wasn't going to get much done without some tools.

So much for an easy fix.

I decided to leave well enough alone, at least until I got rad-Away, Rad-X and/or a protection suit and some tools. If it hasn't exploded in the last decade, it can wait a few more days, right ?

Right. With nothing else to do, I decided to hit the local saloon for information.

Climbing up the rickety stairs towards Moriarty's saloon and watching a foreign sun set on a foreign land, the reality of my situation sunk in. I was alone in a alien world, with no food, no water and no money. My only possessions were the N99 10mm pistol with a two and a half clips I had stolen from a vault security officer and the clothes on my back. I had counted on finding dad in Megaton, but it was becoming increasingly clear that chasing after him was going to be much more difficult that I initially imagined.

With a sigh, I opened the door to the saloon.

Moriarty's fine establishment, as advertised, served cold drinks. It also offered escort services and boarding - obviously, the place served as the local den of iniquity. The owner, Moriarty, was jovial and welcoming, but not very forthcoming as far as useful information was concerned.

He told me all about my father first visit to Megaton, when I was just a baby. Apparently, neither my father nor I were born inside the vault. I'm not too sure how I feel about the fact my father lied to me for my entire life. I'm not angry, it's just... I guess it's just yet another thing I'll need to discuss this with him.

Ok, I _am_ angry. But I'm not going to be able to do much about it until I find him, anyway.

Speaking of which, when I asked Moriarty about the whereabouts of dear old dad, he flat-out told me to pay up. In caps. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the fact that people in the wastelands use bottle caps as a currency. It's actually pretty smart when you think about it - It was readily available all around the wasteland, so everybody had some (contrary to our good old US dollars), and it can't be counterfeited without a working industry, which no longer exists. Instant working economy.

Sadly, it also meant I was plain broke. When I told him as much, a nasty smile played on his lips and he proposed something... different.

" All right, kid. Let me help you out, you know... for old time's sake. If you don't have the caps to pay for the information, then maybe you could do a little favor for me. "

" So, you want me to do your dirty work ? " Damnit, bastard must have been planning on this from the very start. Bait me with some old stories, and once he made sure I was hooked - make me pay for the rest.

" Who said anything about dirty work? You need some caps, I'm giving you a way to get 'em. It's just business. This junkie bitch named Silver borrowed quite a few caps from me... claimed she could start funneling Jet and Psycho to me for a good price. Problem is she scrammed with the loot and set herself up in Springvale so she can inject herself into a stupor. Get the caps she owes me and they're yours. Yours to pay me with anyway. He he he he he. "

I'm not stupid. Moriarty downplayed it, but if it was that simple to get his caps back, he would have probably done it himself a long time ago.

Of course, I wasn't about to complain. This was a good occasion to make some money and get some intel on my dad whereabouts. I'll just have to suck it up and get it over with. I guess.

And so I went back to sunny Springvale to extort some random lady.

By night. Thank god for the light from my Pip-Boy screen.

I said it, and I'll say it again : this is NOT how I expected today to go.

* * *

I did not, in fact, hold Silver at gunpoint to get my caps. Instead, we both sat at her table and I asked for her side of the story.

I'm a terrible enforcer.

According to Silver, Moriarty had her work as an escort in his saloon, but she wanted out. She told him she was leaving and that she wanted her share of the caps. Even slept with him to seal the deal.

The next day, he backed out.

Moriarty's a real saint, isn't he ?

Anyway, she stole her caps and ran. I didn't really feel like taking her caps after hearing that, but I also needed to get the info on dad whereabouts. So I told her to give me whatever she could and that I'd fork out the rest somehow. Silver was glad she didn't get robbed blind, and I had finally some starting money at least.

Yay.

But how does one earn quick and easy money in this world ? When I asked Silver, she told me that if she knew that, she wouldn't be hiding out in a shack shooting herself up to forget a lifetime of turning tricks. She concluded with " The Wasteland sucks, kid. Just get used to it. "

When she saw my dejected face, she softened up a bit.

" Look kid, unless you're starving, on drugs or in debt, you're pretty much golden. Just sit on your cash, stay the hell away from raiders and watch out for assholes like Moriarty. It'll work itself out. "

" Raiders ? "

" Shit, what rock did you live under ? Raiders - you know, psychos, bandits ? "

" I'm... relatively new to the wasteland. "

" ... Okay, well, they have some sort of base in the old elementary school, so stay away from there. Those guys will rape you, kill you and eat you. Not necessarily in that order. "

" Stay away from the school, got it. "

" I'll never understand how some people make a living of prospecting old ruins like that. Gotta have a deathwish. "

Raising myself from my chair, I took my leave. " Well, thanks for the warning. I'll try to see if some other people in Megaton need someone to boss around. "

" No problem, kid. You watch yourself out there. "

* * *

In spite - or maybe because - of Silver's warning, I still kind of wanted to see the school for myself. I had no intention of getting too close, of course, but I wanted to see what those monstrous raiders looked like. Hell, call it morbid curiosity. I should be safe under the cover of the night, right ?

Springvale must have been a rather small country town before the bombs fell. Most houses must have been made of wood and consequently were in ruins, their skeletons still hanging somehow while their boarded walls had been torn off during the blast from the apocalypse. Only the smaller, flatter houses like Silver's were still more or less intact.

In contrast, the large concrete building that was Springvale elementary school fared marginally better than the rest of the town. With a giant hole in the middle, it had been hit hard when the bombs fell, but all in all, it was still in relatively good shape. I could see why the raiders chose it as their base of operation.

As I got closer to the school, I crouched down and squinted my eyes. All was calm amidst the ruins. Where were those raiders ? Did they vacate the place ? I crept closer.

A small sound behind me was the only warning I got. I turned just in time to see a half naked man jump at me with a mighty yell and a baseball bat raised high. Then everything went dark.

* * *

I awoke with an incredible headache to the sound of various shouts and yells. Why the hell are Butch and his cronies shouting up in my bedroom ? And why did I drink so much ? I blearily opened my eyes up but instead of being graced with the sight of Butch ridiculous pompadour, all I saw rusted metal bars, hooks and... dismembered bodies ?

And then, my brain restarted. Oh, _hell_.

I have been captured by raiders. The realisation hit me with another wave of nausea.

Please tell me I don't have a concussion on top of things.

Though when a crazed voice rose above the clamor, it became very clear that a concussion was the least of my worries.

" And today, brothers, we are not going to have ONE but TWO sacrifices ! "

The furious uproar that rose from the crowd to answer it gave me shivers.

I was inside some metal cage in the middle of the school main hall, alongside another screaming female raider who was desperately rattling the bars from our cage. All around us, raiders were screaming, laughing and throwing random garbage at us through the bars.

" Fuck, Dinzel ! I told you I was sorry ! "

The man who must have been the leader turned around, his face contorted in anger.

" 'Sorry' ain't gonna cut it, Tick ! Nobody steal from my stash ! NOBODY ! "

" You fuckin' loser prick ! If you sold those scabs instead of making them dig that stupid tunnel we coulda' been rolling in caps and chems ! "

A few yells of approval could be heard among the crowd.

" Shut up ! Shut up, you bitch ! "

" I NEED my dose, Dinzel ! " The woman was growing increasingly erratic. " Let me OUT OF HERE ! "

Leaning in, he growled the last part.

" Fat chance, bitch. Now I'm going to make an example out of you. "

With a roar of frustration, she punched him through the bars. The crowd felt deadly silent. Slowly picking himself up, the leader wiped the blood of his face and smirked.

" Bring me my flamer. "

I shakily raised myself to my feet.

" And look who finally joined the party ! Just in time, too ! " he said as one of his cronies handed him the biggest flame-thrower I had ever seen.

" Yeah, b-because I want to be lectured on party etiquette by the local clown. "

My stutter betrayed my false bravado, and I was drenched in cold sweat by this point, but I still managed to get the words out. My big mouth got me in trouble before, but hell, if I'm going to die, then I refuse to give that prick the pleasure of seeing me grovelling. The leader eye twitched, but if anything he smiled even more.

" Funny guy, huh ? We'll see who's going to be laughing in a few moments. "

He started to prime the flamer, letting out a few bursts of flame to make us squirm. Tick and I dug ourselves into the bars behind us, trying to get as much away from the flamer as we could, but it was a futile effort. I started to look around frantically in growing panic. God-damnit, there must be something ! Anything !

Nothing. There was nothing.

The raiders around cheered loudly, pelting us with random junk that was lying around. A well-aimed baseball throw hit my temple and I felt something warm trickle down the side of my face.

... A baseball ?

Amongst the debris the raiders had thrown at us was lying a tough, leathery baseball. A crazy, desperate idea wormed its way in my mind and before I knew it, I had thrown myself to the ground to pick up the ball, scrambled back to my feet and jammed it inside the exhaust of the flamer just as the raider pressed the trigger.

" Time to die ! "

The flame of the igniter burnt my wrist and my arm took the full brunt of the blow-back but I had attained the desired effect : the poorly maintained flamer exploded, inflicting severe burns on the leader.

The crowd was stunned into silence by the explosion. The only noises that could be heard were the screams of the man on fire desperately twisting on the ground. None of his fellow raiders dared to approach him.

My companion, however, immediately sized the opportunity to grab his keys while he was thrashing near the cage. She started to frantically try them one by one, but her hands were shaking too much and she dropped them.

" Fuck ! fuck, fuck, fuck ! "

Picking them up with my good arm, I inserted the first of three key into the lock and turned. Nothing. I inserted the second key with shaky fingers as I heard one raider say " Hey ! They're trying to escape ! Get'em ! ". I prayed and turned.

The lock audibly clicked.

A foot flew past my head as Tick kicked the door open with a loud metallic sound. She immediatly dived at the severely burnt leader, pinning him to the ground as she started to pummel his face.

" Thought. You. Could. Kill. Me ! " She punctuated each words with a punch. She would have probably turned his head into paste if she didn't spot the large syringe in his jacket. " Oh yesyesyes come to mama... " Pausing her assault, she frenetically picked it up and jammed it in her own leg with a sigh of contentment. She then started to quietly laugh before shouting at the top of her lungs " Everything's gonna die ! "

" Kill them ! "

With a maniacal grin she turned toward me.

" Hey ! Vault Boy ! Catch ! "

I barely had the time to react and catch (with my face) the leader's gun she had just thrown me, which ironically happened to be my own.

After that it was chaos. With all the raiders packed up in one place, I think more died due to friendly fire rather than our combined effort. I did manage to kill a few ; not shooting with my dominant arm was a bit of a problem, but thankfully accuracy wasn't such an issue since we were in relatively close quarter.

Understand : I shot wildly at the crowd while screaming curses incoherently. I think I even managed to drop a few of them, but I didn't really have the time to congratulate myself as a raider came from my right and swung a nailed board at my leg.

Intense pain shot from through my thigh and encompassed my entire right side as I was projected to the ground. Greeting my teeth, I clung to the gun, rolled over on my back and emptied the rest of my clip into the raider chest. I felt a small pang of panic as I heard my gun click empty - reloading it would be impossible with my broken arm, leaving me vulnerable and wounded.

Thankfully, Tick had been busy. With a manic laugh, she jumped at the throat of the two last raiders like a wild animal.

I think it was psycho she injected herself with at the beginning of the fight. From what I remember from history books, it was supposed to be some kind of military drug developed during the great war. Turns you into a super soldier or something. I always thought the book exaggerated the effects, but looking at Tick, I now realize it was probably the other way : she was almost covered in blood from head to toe.

How did that happen ? Well, thanks to one explosion inclined raider - and by that I mean a raider who spontaneously exploded in several pieces when punched in the jaw. Damn, the wasteland is weird. What kind of medical condition or mutation causes someone to separate at the seams when struck in the face ?

Anyway, I could see that Tick was coming down from her high, and we both needed medical attention after catching more than our fair share of blows and bullets. I was going to suggest limping back to Megaton but she just picked up a inhaler from a body and breathed deeply.

" Aaaaaah... that hit the spot... Wanna hit ? " She slumped against the wall.

Seriously ?

" Huuh... No thanks. "

" Meh. More for me... " She weakly raised her hand to inhale another shot but the inhalator slipped from her hands. A look of confusion played on her face. " What the fuck... ? "

As her body slowly slid to the ground, it left a large bloody trail on the wall which could only mean one thing : open wound. She blinked around, her mouth opening and closing as she went in shock. Her body started to shiver.

Damn. I had to act fast. I remembered spying a first aid box in a nearby room. I hobbled to it as fast as I could, grimacing in pain all the while - locked ! I wasn't disheartened, though. Locked was good. Locked meant not looted.

I had neither the time nor the skill for lockpicks, so I just forced the lock with a knife laying around (in a body, yuck) ; the box yielded one Stimpack, one Rad-X and some dirty water. I quickly hobbled back to my new friend ; her blood was pooling underneath her, but she was still moving - good.

No time to waste. Wincing at the fresh wave of pain the movement caused in my leg, I kneeled in front of her and pulled her close.

I had no idea what should be the correct amount to inject. In the vault, where resources were always sparse, my dad only ever using micro-doses to facilitate and speed up the healing process.

Oh, hell.

" You might feel a slight sting. "

I heard a weak " Huh ? " in my ear before I jammed the entire Stimpack in her back. The reaction was instantaneous.

" Ooooooww ! Fuck ! "

Apparently stimpacks work extra fast on this gal, because she went from the verge of death to perfectly healthy in a few seconds. Which was a little problematic as the initial pain caused her to painfully cling to my broken arm.

Ouch.

Fortunately she soon relaxed as the wound closed and the pain relented.

" ... Worst high ever. "

" Hey, at least you're not bleeding to death. "

" Yeah... Thanks, pal. You really sure you don't want to hit this ? "

When the hell did she pick that inhalator up ?

" Uh... Positive. You okay ? "

" I'll be in a sec'. "

Not even paying attention to the blood on it, she inhaled again. She snorted and eyed it with amusement.

" Heh. The blood gives a funny after-taste. "

" Uh... You might wanna slow down with the drugs. You've been dosing yourself non-stop for the last five minutes. "

" Godda gerrid of the shakes... " She slurred as her eyes opened and closed. " imma sleep noow... "

Exhaustion finally caught up to her and she passed out ont the floor.

* * *

After Tick passed out, I dragged a not too horribly stained mattress near her and settled her a little more comfortably.

Yes, my arm was still broken and my leg was still bleeding. Being a gentleman hurt.

I decided to blame my father for my fancy education.

Once the psycho was lying on a dirty mattress instead of a dirty floor, I started the hunt for another stimpack. My efforts were rewarded after a while, and I was able to enjoy feelings beside pain in my dominant arm again. The leg still hurt, though, but at least it had healed enough so that I could walk normally.

Additionally, the school and, once I had gone over my repulsion, the raider corpses yielded much loot, notably in weapons, chems and caps. I wasn't too sure about the chems, but given how many people I met seem to use them on a, well, HOURLY basis, there's probably a decent profit to be made. And hell, some of them have actual therapeutic effect. I remember seeing those in my father's office.

The weapons were all pretty much in crap condition (and by that I mean most were literally falling apart), but being a semi-decent repairman, I was a least able to recycle the best parts of the most damaged ones to repair the rest. Sorta. It's kind of different from repairing a water purifier, so I probably missed a lot of damage.

But the best news is that I now have enough caps to pay Moriarty !

On a side note, I also raided the raiders pantry. This actually made me feel a little sad because there was a lot of food inside and I can't take it with me. I'm not too broken about killing the raiders because, well, they went through a lot of effort to make me hate them, but this is just a waste of food. I'm sure there are a lot of people starving in the wastes, like Micky. On that note, I should probably bring him some of that water back.

Well, a least there are two people who won't be starving tonight. I roasted some skewers of mystery meat over a barrel fire and picked some fruits I did not recognize as dessert. Plus some century-old Nuka-cola for drinks. A few plates and Voilà ! Wasteland special, a (hopefully, though probably radioactive) healthy repaste.

The smell of cooked meat made me realize just how hungry I was. I had nothing to eat since this yesterday morning !

I settled her share near the resting Tick and started tacking tentative bites of my food. After two decades of instamash and preserved ingredients, I decided that I like fresh meat VERY much. The fruits, on the other hand, tasted bland and watery. Finally, Nuka Cola tasted exactly like it did in the vault, which gave me a small bout of nostalgia. I sure hope Amata's alright.

No. Don't think about the vault. I bit into my skewer with renewed gusto.

I was going through my second skewer when Tick came to.

" 'Lo. " I answered with a mouth full of food.

I was answered with a grunt followed by a " What's this ? "

" Uh... " I swallowed my portion and answered. " ... Breakfast in bed ? "

Accepting the explanation with another grunt, the girl sat up and started wolfing down her food in a matter of minutes. " So what's your story, Vault Boy ? " She said between two mouthful. " Oh, and before I forget, thanks for not raping me while I slept. "

" Long story short - I'm looking for my dad. And you're welcome. Urgh."

" He owes you money ? "

" No... No, more of an... explanation. He just... up and left one day. Yesterday, actually. "

" Mmh. "

She kept eating for a few moments before her eyes widened in realization.

" Wait, does that mean you can open the vault ? "

" I wish. No, it can only be opened from the inside. I... kinda threw myself out. "

" Tch. Why'd you even do that ? "

" Didn't have much of a choice. When my father got out... It turned the entire vault upside down. People were trying to leave left and right... The vault overseer handled the situation with his usual subtlety. "

She took a long swig from her nuka-cola, leaving her fruits ignored. " What'd he do ? "

" He ordered vault security to arrest me and gun down everyone trying to leave. " I let out a sigh. " This was no longer a place for me to stay, so I ran out. "

" Well, that was depressing. " She concluded as she licked her fingers. " So what you gonna do now ? "

" Get back to Megaton, pay Moriarty for information on my dad, find him and probably sock him in the jaw. "

" Ha ! Now that's more like it ! " She exclaimed, spitting small bits of food around.

" ... So ? "

" So what ? "

" What's YOUR story ? "

" ...Augh. " She scratched the back of her head in annoyance before she started reciting with the monotone voice of someone who had to tell their life story one too many time. " My parents were two dumbass settlers. When I was fifteen and sick of shovelling Brahmin crap, I said 'fuck this shit', took their caps and left for Rivet City. Everything was pretty much fine and dandy until that Cantelli cunt got me hooked on jet and took all of my fuckin' money. I ended up turning tricks at the Muddy rudder to pay for my chems until fucking Rivet Security decided they didn't want whores on their ship after all and threw me out. After that I just fucked and killed around to get my fix until I got recruited into Boppo's gang cuz' he needed muscle for his 'big plan' to attack Megaton. Heh. After the loser died like a little bitch, Dinzel took over with his even more dumbass 'let's dig a tunnel to the vault' plan and got half the gang killed by giant ants. I've had enough of this shit, so I decided to get the fuck out of here. Tried to steal Dinzel's stash before I left, got caught, and here I am. "

" Well, _damn_. I'm never complaining about a single day of my life ever again. "

" Welcome to the wasteland, Vault Boy. "

" Well, we're alive, against all odds, so I declare today to be a good day, wasteland be damned. "

" Heh. You're one of those opta - opti - "

" Optimistic ? "

" That ! And yeah. You're right. Think of all the chems we can loot from those losers ! "

" You've got a one-track mind, you know that ? Well, you can take your pick, I've already got what I need. "

That being my own weapon and ammo for it, 150 caps to pay Moriarty, along with some Rad-X, Rad-Away and a few tools I found in a maintenance closet to defuse a megaton bomb, high-school janitor style.

And a small assortment of chems to sell. Supply and demand. Don't judge me.

" Seriously ?! "

" ... Yes ? I mean... It's only fair we share, right ? Not to mention I can't really carry any more than that. My jumpsuit have only so many pockets. "

" Oh man, you ARE serious. Well don't mind if I do ~ "

She practically jumped from corpse to corpse, picking up mostly chems and weapons.

" I'm gonna get so HIGH ! Hey, dude, why didn't you pick one of those sweet-ass shotguns ? "

" No need. I don't really intend to get into that kind of trouble again. "

She blinked. Twice. Then she let out a small laugh and swung her arm around my shoulders.

" Haaaa, Vault Boy, Vault Boy, I forget you just crawled out of a world of sunshine and happiness. This is the wasteland. Trouble WILL find you. And this - " She put the shotgun in my arms, " - is the ultimate problem solver. "

She returned to looting the corpses with another laugh as I cradled the shotgun awkwardly.

" Hey, you haven't looted any armor either ! "

" What armor ? " My eyes widened with realisation. " You don't mean... "

" Yeah ! Stripping dead people ! "

* * *

 _Side-note : I'm so glad Tick is a raider. Makes justifying some of the game mechanics sooo much easier for me._

 _Looting corpses for money, weapons and ammo - that's common sense. Waste not, want not and all that. Stripping them and taking their armour as your own, though ? NO ONE does that. I mean, have you ever looked at a corpse and thought : " Yeah, I could see myself in this ! " ?_

 _Thankfully, Tick is a raider with no sense of shame or respect for the deceased, so she can pass on to Vault Boy the habit of stripping dead people._

 _Thanks, Tick !_


	3. The Triumphal Return

The triumphal return

* * *

Tick had decided to accompany me to Megaton - It has been a long time since she had enjoyed the comfort of civilization, raiders being shot on sight and what-not. It also has been a long time since she had extra caps to spend - and what better way to spend them than at the local bar ?

She's figuring that since she's with me, she should be able to enter the town. I agree.

So long as _I_ get to do the talking.

" Hey, Simms. "

" Hey, kid. Were you just kidding 'bout disarming that thing ? "

" Actually, I got the tools to get started right here. "

Clearly not expecting a semi-professional answer, Lucas was pleasantly surprised.

" Alright ! Glad to see you taking this seriously. "

Yes ! Looks like we caught him in a good mood, we might be able to pull this off after all !

" Hey, nice hat, Calamity Jane ! "

 _Oh god no_.

" So that's the way it's gonna be, huh? That's fine. That's fine... " Lucas narrowed his eyes and walked right up to Tick. " Just so long as we understand each other. This here is my town. These are my people. You so much as breathe wrong, and I'm gonna fuckin' end ya. "

" Just try it, you fuckin' moron. I'll rip off that limp dick of yours and - "

" Alright, time out, time out ! "

Both of them turned their heads toward me.

" Tick - you didn't come here to start a fight ! "

" Oh, yeah ! " She exclaimed, as if some grand realization just downed on her. " I came here to get wasted ! "

" Lucas - she's cool ! she's... uh, she's just helped me clean out Springvale school of raiders ! "

" What. "

" I'm serious ! "

" You mean to tell me that a greenhorn and a juiced-up junkie just moped out an entire gang of raiders ? You better stop playing games with me, boy! "

" Lucas. In the six hours since I last saw you, I've been abducted, shot at, burnt and stabbed. And she's been with me every step of the way. I don't know - and I don't care - how we happened to take out a gang. Right now, I just want a break. Please ? "

Lucas sighed and rolled his eyes.

" Fine. Enjoy your stay in Megaton. " He turned towards Tick again. " Don't get into any trouble and we'll go on pretending we're friends. "

This time, Tick got the message and behaved. Mostly.

" Riiight. Message received, chief. You comin', Vault Boy ? "

* * *

First thing I did upon entering the saloon was shove the caps in Moriarty's hands with a simple " Talk. " while Tick made a beeline straight for the bar. Moriarty's eyes widened a little before that unpleasant smile of his stretched on his face. Clearly, he wasn't expecting me back with the caps so soon.

" Excellent! Your dad raised a smart kid. Really no substitute for the love of a father, now is there ? Speaking of dear old dad, he went southeast, into D.C. to the Galaxy News Radio station. Good luck now. "

And so I almost died just to get directions. Having finished exploiting me, Moriarty immediately lost interest and waved me away before turning to speak with Nova.

Well, fuck you too, Moriarty. With a groan, I joined Tick at the bar.

" I want this one, and this one, and this - Hey ! Vault Boy ! So, where's your fucking dad ? "

" Galaxy News radio, DC. " I said as I sat on the barstool next to her.

" Well, your old man's dead. Cheers ! " she said, raising one of her various drinks.

I groaned again and let my head hit the counter.

" You're the sun that brighten my day, Tick. Why would my father be dead ? "

" Everybody knows DC belongs to the super mutants. Only fuckers who can get through DC are ghouls, because super mutants don't shoot them. "

" Why ? What's a ghoul ? "

She downed another drink in one go. " My guess ? Pro'ly because ugly attract ugly. As for what's a ghoul, well... Eyes in front. " She said as she lazily waved her empty drink towards the bar.

I raised my eyes - then suddenly wished I didn't.

" Welcome to Moriarty's. "

In front of me was a zombie. A living, talking, ROTTING zombie.

So I freaked out like a little girl and fell off my stool.

" Gah! Fuck! What are you? "

Tick guffawed with laughter.

" Ha ha ha ha ! If you could see your face, Vault Boy ! "

And then, to my surprise, instead of eating my brain, the zombie answered sadly in the roughest, most gravelly voice I had ever heard.

" I guess they don't have a lot of Ghouls in the Vault. "

He sounded so... sad. (He also sounded like someone who chocked on acid, but that's neither here nor there.) I was starting to feel real bad about my little outburst, so I picked myself up and tried to do the polite thing by asking what's a ghoul. The zomb - no, person - let out a sigh that reminded me of a broken ventilation system.

" Well, not all of us got the chance to hole up in a nice cushy Vault when the bombs fell. A bunch of us got stuck out here in the world, and got a full on blast of heat and radiation turned us into a pack of walking corpses. Near as I can tell, we age slower than you. A lot slower. There are even a few Ghouls that were alive during the war. " His face contorted in a grimace of disgust. " Of course, with a face like ground Brahmin meat, you can imagine that folks don't take too kindly to us. "

Damn. What do you answer to that ? Life in the vault did NOT prepare me for giving pep talks to the... adversely irradiated.

" You know, it's not so bad. " There. That's positive, right ?

He smirked. I think.

" Nice of you to say so. If you can't be nice, at least pretend, right? Fake it 'till you make it, and all that. " Gob let out another sigh and continued. " Still though, a fake compliment is better than the usual spit in the face that I get. You're not half bad... for a smoothskin. "

" Hey, I've got nothing against you people. " Which was true. So far, Gob seemed like a genuinely nice guy who'd just been dealt a bad hand.

Okay, a pretty damn horrible hand.

" Well now. That's a surprise! I'm used to every asshole smoothskin in this town giving me shit just because I look like a corpse. I'm glad to see that there are a few worthwhile people around here. Listen... Moriarty'd have my head if he caught me selling at a discount, but for you, I'll risk it. "

Tick butted in the conversation. " A discount ? Sweet ! "

" I wasn't talking to you, smoothskin. "

" Meh, same diff'. I'm with Vault Boy here ! C'mon, Gob, have a heart ! "

* * *

Depressed with news of my father's probable death, yet glad to have made a friend in the person of Gob (who, I learned later, is Moriarty's slave - What the hell, Moriarty ? Is there anyone you haven't fucked over ?), I let Tick talk me into a round of drinking.

Tick, a hardcore junkie who had already destroyed her liver, lungs (and arguably, brain) through a lifetime of addiction.

I had never drank anything stronger than beer before today.

I was not ready.

* * *

I awoke in bed around mid-morning according to my pip-boy. A pounding headache was resonating in my skull and my mouth felt dry, yet I mustered the strength to look around where I was.

Slowly.

I was in a metal shack. Good. Probably still in Megaton.

Lots of beds around me. Some empty, some occupied. A dormitory ?

I sat up.

My head felt like it had been put in a vice. " Oooowww... " I realized a greasy note was sticking out of one of my pockets.

* Hey Volt-boy you pasd out so i put you in bed *

* did not rap you :) *

* borod some of your cap *

* Tick *

Once I managed to decipher Tick horrible spelling, I hurriedly patted my left pocket and discovered I was left with merely ten caps. Damn it, Tick ! That was not just 'some' of my caps !

I sighed and patted my right pocket. Right. She hadn't found the drugs I was planning to sell, so all in all, I was still sitting pretty. Standing pretty, though... I stumbled out of the shack and shielded my eyes from the unforgiving sun. No, I could not function like this.

" Excuse me ? "

" ... What ? "

" Please tell me there is a place someone can get themselves a cup of coffee around here. "

" Uh... Try the Brass Lantern. "

* * *

No coffee, but the Stahl's dinner still offered a wide variety of foods and drinks. Never heard about half of what was on the menu, so I simply settled for today's suggestion. After a small meal and a Nuka Cola, I finally felt more or less like my usual self.

Not desiring to postpone this any longer, I went to the bomb in the middle of city. I had hoped for some privacy, but apparently undetonated bombs are the (radioactively) hot meeting spots of the wasteland. I counted no less than five people already near the machine of destruction, all standing around some old man chanting knee-deep in irradiated water.

Riiiight. Psycho cultists. Maybe I should wait a little -

" The hell do ya mean, 'Get out' ?! " Tick voice boomed over Megaton.

" ... ! " I recognized Moriarty's voice, but he was too far for me to make out the words.

" Standards ? My presence alone's raising your fuckin' bar standards ! "

Such a charmer, that girl.

She DID grab everyone attention, though. They all left to see what the commotion was about. Since no one was looking, I quickly downed some Rad-X and stepped into the cold, irradiated water. Brrr.

The access panel, with its rusted bolts, was easily pried open. The mesh of wires inside was actually problematic, but only in the sense it was preventing access to the small explosive that served as detonator. An atomic bomb like this is just a lot of fission material waiting to get started on their atomic splitting and a small bomb to give the initial spark. Remove or disable the detonator, and the reaction will never start ! It will just, uh, leak lethal radiations for aeons to come. Thank god those bombs are shielded.

" ... and your beer tastes like piss, shithead ! "

Wow, Tick was still going.

" What did you say, you little BITCH ?! " Hm. I actually heard that - looks like Moriarty's patience is running out. That, or she hit home. Ugh. Maybe I shouldn't have drank so much beer.

Since by now the entirety of Megaton had gone to watch the fight, I was able get down to the nitty-gritty part of the job without interruption.

I used some pliers to keep most of the wiring out of my way as I greased and unscrewed bolts a few centuries old. The detonator was pretty underwhelming compared to the size of the bomb - barely any bigger than a grenade - but it was still very much capable of blowing off my hands. And I liked my hands. Therefore I slid it out VERY carefully, before emptying the exploding powder in the water and sliding it back in.

After that I welded the bolts in place, closed the hatch and welded it as well for good measure. If someone want to make that bomb explodes, they'll have to take it apart first. That includes manhandling about a ton of terminally radioactive material, so I'm not too worried about that.

Satisfied with my work - and pretty proud of myself, I stepped out of the radioactive sludge and went to join the crowd in front of the saloon.

Today : got wasted, had dinner, disarmed a megaton-class atomic bomb. All in all, a pretty good day already.

* * *

 _Side-note : Tick knows her abc and some basic words, but that's it. She just wings the rest._

 _Not like the rest of the wastes, where everybody seems to know how to spell, write and read, as well as basic arithmetic, even though there are no schools in most 'cities'. My best guess is that even the global apocalypse won't stop parents from being concerned with their children education._

 _Then again, I suppose there's always some sort of "natural" selection going on. Can you spell "minefield" ?_


End file.
